


Afternoon Delight

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash February, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Serena and an afternoon in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

> femslash february is for multifandom exploration!!

Blair flings open the door before Serena can even get the key in the lock, and she’s wearing next to nothing—a wispy black negligee that grazes the tops of her toned thighs, bare legs, and sky high patent heels, in that sensuous oxblood that was so trendy last winter but Blair still manages to look like a fresh statement in.

“Bonjour ma chérie!” Blair chirps, her accent lilting. “Ça va?” She leans against the doorjamb, one arm carefully posed, drawing attention to the delicate lines of her body, and Serena knows that its on purpose, designed to drive her wild from the get-go, and that Blair likely practiced it four times before Serena had even arrived.

And its working, but Serena knows Blair likes a chase, so instead of forcing Blair’s mouth open with her own (the way she wants to) Serena tosses her head, raises one brow. 

“Were they having a sale at Carine Gilson?” Serena asks, wide eyed and innocent. She slides past Blair into their rented apartment.

Blair lets out a tinny huff, miffed, and Serena hears the door thump shut behind her. “Girls like us don’t wait around for sales, S,” says Blair. “We take what we want when the occasion arises.”

“What’s the occasion?” asks Serena. She feels her mouth curving into a smile and glances sidelong at Blair. A lock of blonde hair falls into her eyes, and she shakes it out of the way.

“Everything, ma petit choix!” Blair exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. “We’re young, we’re beautiful, and we’re in gay Paris! Life is an occasion!”

Serena laughs. When Blair is playful, it’s infectious. She had been so raw when they’d first come to Paris, too quick to snarl and lash, devastated by her break up with Chuck. And after all the drama with kissing Dan and breaking up with Nate… Serena hadn’t been in the best place herself. There had been a couple nights she’d wished she could block out entirely (blackouts just didn’t do the trick sometimes), wine soaked nights spent running breathless alongside the Seine, laughing but a little too wild. 

Eventually, they’d coaxed each other back. They’d talked, tentative and vulnerable, hair twining together and pinkies linked, and relearned how to smile sober. Blair stopped making the help cry and dropping to her knees in bathroom stalls, and Serena had stopped breaking hearts and dropping to her knees in taxis. They’d started eating breakfast in bed and shopping recklessly and sleeping curled around each other at night.

When Blair is like this, wiped clear of sadness, buzzing with energy, Serena is swept away by it. She’s swept away now, or rather, sweeping Blair into her arms and kissing that pert mouth. Her purse lands on the floor with a thump. Blair mewls in the back of her throat and links her fingers behind Serena’s neck. Her kiss is rougher, more aggressive, but Serena is malleable to it, answering Blair’s tiny shove with one of her own, and another, until she’s edging Blair backwards through the airy front room of their apartment and to the bedroom off it. Their mouths never stop moving, soft hungry noises that echo as they struggle not to stumble.

The backs of Blair’s knees hit the edge of their bed, and she falls onto it, pulling Serena back with her. Serena laughs, and her hand slides up Blair’s thigh, and her fingers brush the silk of Blair’s panties, hot and already damp.

“Serena,” Blair breathes, knees spreading apart, hips bucking into Serena’s touch. Serena kisses Blair’s neck, just below her ear, and Blair lets out a breathy sigh. 

“How long did you wait for me to come home?” Serena asks. “An hour? Two?” she strokes Blair through fabric. “All afternoon?” 

Blair’s nose wrinkles, and Serena knows she’s struggling not to squirm. She rubs her fingers against Blair faster, feels the shape of the slit between Blair’s lips and flicks the pad of her index finger against Blair’s clit. Blair’s hips jerk again, and a noise escapes her. “You think I have nothing better to do than sit around all day fantasizing about you?” Blair asks, but the haughty effect is shattered when her sentence breaks off in a whimper that makes Serena smile.

“I think you’ve imagined a dozen movie moments where it’s black and white and we chain-smoke clove cigarettes,” says Serena. Her hand slides away from the space between Blair’s thighs and along skin until she can grab the toned swell of Blair’s ass. “And I think I better make this better than all of them.”

Serena’s free hand also grabs Blair’s ass, and she yanks Blair towards her and kisses her hard on the mouth, grinds against Blair until Blair is moaning wanton into Serena’s mouth and wrapping her legs around Serena’s waist, nails clawing down Serena’s back, filthy words swallowed down by smacking lips, the air perfumed with musty hints of sex.

Serena breaks apart and Blair murmurs protests, but they dim when Serena crawls down Blair’s tiny frame, hooks her thumbs into the waistband of Blair’s panties and tugs them down. She chases the downward path of Blair’s underwear with kisses; pressed against the pale flesh of Blair’s inner thighs. Blair is so wet that the lips of her cunt glisten, swollen plump and heated. Serena holds Blair’s thighs and spreads them wider; Blair throws her legs over Serena’s shoulders. Serena feels the heels of Blair’s stilettos scrape against her shoulder blades, lain bare by the flimsy summer sundress she wears. 

The first touch of Serena’s tongue to Blair’s skin sends Blair’s hands flying to Serena’s hair, tangling in the glossy locks, thighs tightening when Serena’s tongue thrusts deeper into Blair and licks. Serena is lost in an instant, fucking Blair with her tongue until her chin is wet and her cheeks are sticky. Serena’s making tiny, happy noises but they’re drowned out by Blair’s moans, breathy and high pitched and squealing and punctuated with cries of “oh oh!” and “God yes,” and Serena’s name. Serena slides two fingers in alongside her tongue and laps upwards until she’s licking Blair’s clit, swirls her tongue in tight circles and fucks Blair with her fingers at a steady, teasing pace. 

Blair is moaning soft and affirmative, and then loud and piqued, and then desperate, toppling, scrabbling. Her grip is painful in Serena’s hair and her thighs are clenched around Serena’s ears and Serena quickens her pace to match Blair’s racing lust, goading, sloppy, coaxing, slurping, until Blair comes like she’s been split open and spilled, gushing and loud and sagging with a gasp.

Serena’s tongue is gentle through the aftershocks, and her eyes flick up towards Blair, who is flushed, eyes squeezed shut, damp curls falling across her face. Serena kisses Blair, once, soft on her cunt and runs her tongue over her lower lip, tasting Blair. 

“Can we still smoke clove cigarettes?” Blair asks without opening her eyes. 

Serena crawls higher up on the bed and curls up against Blairs side, stroking the skin of her arm. “Endlessly.”


End file.
